Boulevard of Broken Dreams
by waiting for my shooting star
Summary: AU. 'Life, is what happens while you're busy making other plans.'  twisted DxMxC; & other multifarious pairings.


**A MAJOR ****THANK YOU ****TO HANNAH! :) I love you sooo much for beating. And for your pro as writing skills.**

**

* * *

**

**Boulevard **of _**b **_ro_**k **_en_** dreams.**_

_Prologue/preview/preface._

**[~]**

Under the gleam of the chandelier, filled with pointed glass shards, I kept fidgeting; shuffling my stance from side to side and pacing back and forth. I was unable to remain stationary for longer than five seconds. Twiddling the filed edges of my thumbnails together; my anxiousness grew immensely. In a matter of fleeting minutes I would no longer be the same Massie Block.

_Why am I even nervous anyway? I'm marrying the man I loved, who also loved me back, I really should be excited. Most girls would kill to have this, too have him, and have the _perfect_ life._ Though, for odd reasons I couldn't bring a pleasant full smile on my slightly pursed cherry flavoured lips.

Digging the pointed tips of my Swarovski crystal studded Louboutins on the steamed soft ecru carpet, my gaze resentfully wandered to that of the large chocolate-brown antique mirror. It was full of beautiful carvings of orchids, which lined the borders and the fancily curved wooden top. The initials to my future name were capitalized with breathtaking calligraphy in the middle. Blinking at the looking glass, I couldn't recognize the beautiful stranger staring back

She looked too good to be true, and, well, I probably was.

My sleek, shiny chestnut hair was swept up in an elegant bun, secured by numerous gemmed clips and copious amounts of hairspray. Loose curls hung_**, **_framing the arches of my heart shaped face.

Shimmery purple powder coated my eyelids, while a thin line of onyx traced the shape of my almond eyes, making the entrancing amber irises stand out all the more. My thick eyelashes were dark and long, curled impossibly upwards with the aid of mascara. My shimmering cheeks were slightly pale yet rosy from the blush. My lips were a blindingly glossy ruby red; a brighter and flashier shade than one I'd ever used.

Unable to fathom the extraneous thoughts buzzing about my over thinking mind. I tried to keep my face blank, unwilling to ruin the picture of infallible perfection. Though inside, I was yearning to frown.

**[~]**

I'm not at all superstitious; I don't believe in karma, bad luck or good luck. Though today, pushing my beliefs was a must. I _needed _to have the required items: something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.

Mother had given me the earrings that glistened sharply under the luminescent chandelier glow; a year before her infelicitous passing. I wore them to be closer to her; I'd never gotten the chance while she was well. My mother was like an obscure blur, she would always disappear from time to time and would take ages reappear again. But somehow she'd find a way to squeeze me in, even if those moments were very fleeting. They were classic, brilliant-cut diamond studs set in white gold; the something old, which would now always be there for me.

Carefully, my freshly French manicured fingers adjusted the brand new tiara atop my head. It was also crafted with diamonds and white gold, though was rather modest. It showcased my taste for simple yet elegant pieces precisely. It was the first thing I bought with my own back-breaking, table-wiping money; my something new.

Flexing my arm, tanned from countless visits to the beach, I glared at the robin-egg blue bracelet encircling my thin right wrist; unfortunately unable to forget the fact it was borrowed from Claire and used also for my lack of something blue. Inside of the circular bracelet had an inscription engraved in cursive French; _bonne chance._ Despite my blindsided hatred towards the bracelet's owner, it was perfect for a day like this. I needed every ounce of luck I could get.

A string of elaborate white fresh-water pearls surrounded my neck; they were smooth, and a tad tight against the collarbone. The very first present Derrick had gotten me, being nowhere near the six zero price range of the other unnecessary gifts; which made them my absolute favourite.

The dress was a pure and pristine white; a colour that made my cheeks redden as the soft fabric rustled over the crown of my head. White depicted purity, which I was unequivocally not. It was crafted using silk, tulle and many other soft fabrics that would rustle around the legs; full and sweeping at the bottom and tightly close to the skin at the top.

A dress like this was meant for a princess and cost more than my father's home. I absolutely loathed it.

The dream wedding I'd pictured originally was a different and unique type. One involving a secluded beach, or an enchanting foreign location with just Derrick and I alone.

But Derrick wanted tradition; he was a man who did everything by the book. He even hadn't wanted to sleep with me until we left for our honeymoon. Though I did find his qualities really admirable and sweet; nowadays nobody waited until marriage. Even I hadn't.

**[~]**

I hadn't noticed the door slowly clicking shut, and a figure walking cautiously, using one foot at a time to reach the empty place behind me; until I found myself staring at a shifting Cam in the mirror.

"You look nice," I murmur distracted, focusing on a fallen eyelash above my prominent left cheekbone. He did look nice, his dark ebony hair was slicked back evenly and for the first time finally out of his sparkling emerald and deep cobalt eyes. His black tux was fitted perfectly, clinging to his build in all the right places- he looked fit for a Bond movie and knowing him, he'd enjoy the compliment.

Rocking back and forth in his shiny black dress shoes, he awkwardly slipped both hands into the front pockets of his black tuxedo.

"Massie..." he began and I froze in my place. Eyes widening to the size of golf balls at his reflection, just now letting my slow brain register and remember who he was, and the reasons why I hated him.

"Cam?" I choked out, "W-what are you doing here?"

I was now breathing heavily, fanning my reddening face. He was not supposed to be here. I didn't want to see him; he didn't want to see me. Wasn't that our agreement?

He shrugged, looking down at the ecru floor bashfully.

Unconsciously my right hand swiftly moved to finger the extravagant Harry Winston engagement ring on my left.

"Massie, I know this may be a little late, but I can't let you do this. I don't want you to marry Derrick."

I stepped off the stand hastily, stumbling slightly from the vastness of my movement.

Cam reaches out to steady me- so _now_ he's a gentleman- but I backed away and grumbled almost inaudibly

"I can do it myself."

Brushing past him, I sat in one of the floral white chairs nearest to the door. It was big enough so I was able to comfortably sit in the princess dress.

I wasn't able leave the room until my father arrived from the airway. Derrick was rather traditional about not seeing the bride at all until the ceremony. He thought it would bring bad luck. Which was cute, but now I wished I'd argued so I wouldn't be stuck with Cameron Fisher.

Cam came to edge of the seat, knelt down onto his knees, intently peering into my eyes, and for an odd reason I couldn't pull away from his penetrating-_ no, _awe-striking -gaze. He exhaled, letting his shaky hands take hold of my own clammy ones.

"Massie. I know I'm not your favourite person right now but, I want you to know, no I need you to know... I," Griping my hand tighter, he visibly swallowed, "I... love you."

I blinked multiple times; did he really just say that? Did he, Cam -sleep with all my bridesmaids- Fisher just say he loved me?

I opened my mouth to say something, _anything,_ though nothing but carbon dioxide could come out. Taking in my silence, he gulped inwardly and kept talking.

"I love you Massie. I really do, as much as I tried to forget you I can't. I don't know when it started, and I sure as hell don't know how, but I love you. I even know everything about you; I know when you feel sad you watch Breakfast at Tiffany's and eat ice cream mixed with Oreos and chocolate chips. You only act like you care about calories and sugar in front of your friends, when really you love sugar. When you're angry, your nose scrunches up in the cutest way. I know that in the morning you hate being looked at, so when I take pictures of you, you don't speak to me for hours.

I know you don't want a fancy wedding. You don't want to wear a fancy dress; have fine jewels or tiaras. You don't even want to wear the colour white when you marry. You have a drawing of your perfect purple dream dress. It's hidden in your wallet, behind a picture of bean. You drew it yourself at fifteen. Massie being with me would be as easy as breathing; it would be spontaneous and fun. We would do something different each day. We'd travel the world, to each and every country, starting with Tokyo. The one place you've been dreaming of going since you were thirteen. Massie please, just don't marry Derrick. I know I can't give what Derrick has, but all I'm asking for is a chance. Because I love you and I know you don't love Derrick the way you love me."

I opened my mouth about to reply but, a knock on the door caused both of us to jump, jolting a meter apart.

"Blossie! Your father's finally here!" came Nikki's bubbly voice from the other side of the door.

My heart was beating rapidly, thumping against my chest hard. Faintly I heard the first verse of the wedding march. _Here comes the bride..._

**

* * *

Okay...**

**Stop.**

_**Rewind**_**.**

**GO.**

**

* * *

**

This must be very confusing for all of you, so I'll backtrack...to exactly two weeks before today, June 23rd.

The day Claire and I arrived at the Harrington resort in Hawaii.

Two weeks before I'd even known the words Cameron Fisher. Back when I was content with Derrick and Derrick alone.

* * *

**Really long a/n:**

**So basically it's either Cassie or Massington.**

**Who do you want massie to choose?**

**Vote, and who ever has the highest amount before the ending will be her choice :)**

**Also, it's **_**disclaimed**_**. I own nothing. Also I don't own the song I got the title from.**

**Tips, criticism or something are all welcome.**

**Ps: I've already got the ending planed out in my mind, there's two different ones; one with her choosing Derrick and another with her choosing Cam. Yeah, so whoever has the highest amount of votes wins (:**


End file.
